The Greatest of These
by SabaceanBabe
Summary: An interlude in Bad Timing, Aeryn reflects upon her life.


The Greatest of These...  
  
Timeline placement: interlude during Bad Timing  
  
Disclaimer: The Farscape universe, and all that is in it, is not mine, but rather belongs to the Jim Henson Company. This is a work of fiction based in that universe. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has  
been or will be collected.  
  
Thanks so much to the ever gracious Scrubschick for her quick beta. As  
always, any errors remain entirely mine.  
  
Having evicted Noranti from John's bedroom – and how wrong is that, the old witch in John's room? – I leaned back against the wall next to the doorway and crossed my arms. John glanced over at me and I smiled at him. For some odd reason, I've been smiling a lot.  
  
"I was looking for you in the maintenance bay." For that matter, I had found him there – I simply hadn't made my presence known as I watched him fire on his fragile equations, incinerating them to so much ash. "I liked your solution..."  
  
"Liked that, did ya?" John replied, as he returned his attention to the boot he was polishing.  
  
"Mm hmm."  
  
Carefully not looking at me, he said, "You have any home remedies for writers' block?"  
  
Walking further into the room, I said, "I know you better than that." Writers' block, my eema. I sat in one of his chairs, stretching my feet out before me. It felt good to sit for a few microts, without worrying about bombs or imminent death. John's next words banished that fleeting feeling of well-being, though.  
  
"I'm gonna fail. It's a sin, really." He continued polishing an already immaculate boot. "I'm close. There's just not enough time."  
  
I shook my head and allowed a rueful smile to stretch my lips. "It's always about time."  
  
John looked up at me. "Yeah. Time."  
  
Looking into his blue eyes, clear seemingly for the first time in the monens I had been back on Moya, I smiled. I couldn't help myself. It made no sense, really, that I should feel like smiling in the midst of an uncomfortable extended starburst, trying to reach Earth before the Scarrans, to save John's world from slavery, or worse. But still, I smiled at him.  
  
He didn't return my smile, instead staring off into nothing, looking past me. "Timing." His face changed as he said it. Abruptly, he set down the boot he had been over-polishing and stood. "Timing," he repeated, looking at me, now. I didn't move as he hurried over to me, carrying his boots in his hands. He bent over, murmuring, "Love you," and gave me a quick peck on the mouth. "Don't ever change."  
  
I smiled still, biting my lower lip to keep from laughing. There was nothing to laugh about, except perhaps for the thought of John Crichton telling me to not change. I had done nothing but change, since I met him.  
  
My smile faded after he was gone. I leaned forward in the chair, bringing my arms to rest on my knees. How the frell did I come to be here, in this place and time? By what quirk of this thing John calls fate?  
  
I looked back on my life, and it seemed as though one microt, I was flying a routine – if potentially hazardous – patrol, and the next... The next, my life was ruined...over. At least, life is I knew it before John Crichton was inflicted on me.  
  
John Crichton. The plague of the Uncharted Territories, and now, Tormented Space as well. I'm sure the Scarrans were wishing they had never heard of him, just now.  
  
John Crichton. The father of my unborn child.  
  
John Crichton.  
  
This man...this "inferior" Human...has taught me so very many things since he stormed into my life.  
  
But then, I suppose it's appropriate that an alien bring me to...wherever it is that I am now.  
  
When we were on Earth, John's sister, Olivia, gave me books to read as well as Earth-clothes to wear. While the clothing didn't suit me at all, surprisingly enough, the books did. They not only allowed me to practice John's English, they also gave me insight into Humans and the usually incomprehensible things that they do.  
  
There was a passage in one book in particular – something to do with one of Earth's religions – that struck a chord in me: "...And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."  
  
Faith, hope, and love. John Crichton brought these things to me, unlooked for, unexpected, and inescapable.  
  
Once, I had faith in my unit, faith that they had my back, if trouble came. I had faith in the Peacekeepers, faith that they would uphold the ideals embodied in their history. In that regard, I suppose John didn't really bring me faith. But he did change the way I looked at faith.  
  
I no longer have faith in the Peacekeepers – that faith has been betrayed too many times. My faith now is reserved for my family – John, D'Argo, Pilot and Moya, even Chiana and Rygel – for I know they will not willingly fail me. It amazes me even now to know that I honestly have faith in that little Hynerian turncoat.  
  
Hope is certainly a concept that John introduced me to. I had no need for hope before I met him. And through so much of the cycles that followed, I had nothing to cling to but hope. There were times, especially after he died in my arms, that hope was the only thing that sustained me, that kept me from ending my life in truth. It is hope that finally brought me back to where I belong – not to a place, but rather to a person.  
  
That was another passage in Olivia's book that I will always remember: "Whither thou goest, I will go." Wherever he is, I belong with John Crichton. I was empty before him, I am empty without him – I know that, now.  
  
And that brings me to love.  
  
I'm still not entirely sure what love is or is not, but I do know that I love John Crichton. I love this child we have created.  
  
For the love of John Crichton, I will do anything...I will be anything. Much as it hurt me to lose him, it hurt me far worse to regain him and yet...not. To live with him again, to breathe the same air, and yet to have barriers of our own creation forcing us so far apart.  
  
I will not give him up again. I will not fail him – or myself – again. This thing he must do to save his world, I will do with him.  
  
We will fail together. Or we will succeed together. I have faith in that. More importantly, I have hope that we will succeed in closing this wormhole.  
  
Just as abruptly as John had done earlier, I stood.  
  
He hadn't told me where he was going, but I knew.  
  
We will succeed in this together. 


End file.
